


Lost and Found: Epilogue

by mysweetbologna



Series: Lost and Found [2]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, because y'all were asking for it, some fluff and happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 06:59:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15213707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysweetbologna/pseuds/mysweetbologna





	Lost and Found: Epilogue

The usual hospital sounds, the rhythmic beeps of machinery, weeping family members, and whispered conversations between nurses and doctors, all of it was now the soundtrack to her life. Staff members tiptoed around her, unsure of how to treat a hero returned from the clutches of death, and perhaps a bit uneasy at the sight as well. She had to give them some credit; they stuck to their guns about the damned visitation hours. Of course, she still found a way inside, despite the numerous attempts C-Sec made to bar her from Huerta Memorial. Nothing and no one would stop her from getting what she wanted now. 

Shepard leaned forward, resting her arms on the hospital bed, her chin on top of her hands. Every so often she had to change positions, because even with all the cybernetic enhancements gifted to her by Cerberus, aches would settle in and remind her that she was still human. It was almost like clockwork: recline in chair, rest head on bed, sit and hold hand, curl up and sleep, then repeat. Her sense of time was shaky at best; being dead for two years really did a number on the internal clock. The cyclar nature of time eluded Shepard while she sat in the hospital, waiting for what seemed like months.

Really it had been two weeks of sitting, two weeks of shocked looks and whispered accusations, two agonizingly long weeks of wondering when Garrus would wake up. During the transport from Horizon to the Citadel, Garrus floated in and out of consciousness, the heart-wrenching wheezing and coughing the few signs that he still lived. Shepard remembered every minute of that flight so vividly that she knew the exact moment when his hand started to go limp in hers and when the memories started to hit her like a tidal wave. She felt guilty that it was taking so long for Garrus to recover, but it gave her time to comb through all of the blocked memories from before Cerberus. It made it easier that she could label them all as before death and after death, though it did little to staunch the hurt and shame of those that came after. 

Garrus’s steady breathing was reassuring at first, until Shepard reminded herself that it was aided by machinery and that at any moment he might not survive, that she too might die alongside him. The doctors told her that there was nothing more they could do, that his recovery was up to him now. It sounded like a load of bullshit that they were feeding her to prepare her for the worst. Shepard had endured her fair share of doomsday pep talks, even delivered them herself, but she refused to believe that this was the end of the road. “There’s no Shepard without Vakarian,” Garrus once told her. That was a before death memory, one that she clung to like a pyjax to a tree. She had laughed then, brushing off whatever he meant by that. Now Shepard figured she would do almost anything to hear him say it again. 

Shepard closed her eyes against the fluorescent lights. There was one fragmented memory that continued to rear its head, intruding and creating a seed of anxiety that settled like lead at the pit of her stomach, growing and strengthening the longer she thought about it. 

She remembered the way that little black dress hugged her body, the dangerously low cut that flirted with top of her belly button. How her crew-turned-friends had all collectively lost their minds seeing their commander in something other than a uniform. And how the glass of brandy dropped out of Garrus’s hand when he turned around from the bar. Shepard teased him about starting without her and all he could manage to do was pull his mandibles in tight against his face. 

Most of that night was a haze that she couldn’t remember; Shepard assumed there was a lot more drinking, dancing, and rowdiness. Miranda assured her on the ship that it would take time for all her memories to return, but they would eventually. It didn’t really matter she couldn’t picture the way Joker limped back and forth, or the steely resolve with which Ashley climbed atop the bar and danced, or even the endearing hiccups Liara suffered after one too many drinks, because even though she loved her friends, she would give all that up to keep the memory of Garrus in that alley every time. 

It felt like watching one of those movies where the main character died and went around spectating their old life. Shepard watched, unashamed, as before death Shepard and Garrus slipped out the back door of the night club. She was laughing and trying to quiet Garrus, who lamented leaving the dance floor. 

 

_ “Shepard, we have to- to go back!”  _

_ “Come on big guy, it’ll be fine.” She leaned against the wall, laughing breathily while she struggled to remove her shoes. Garrus paced back and forth, wavering with each step thanks to all the rounds other club-goers bought for them. Once word had gotten out that she and some of her crew were at the club, people flocked toward them, offering drinks, dancing, acting as if they were all celebrities and not heroes.  _

_ “What are we doing out here?”  _

_ “I just needed some air. It’s too crowded in there.” Garrus stopped his pacing, watching as Shepard teetered on one foot while she took off her last shoe. The visceral desire in his eyes raked over her body. If there was ever a time or place to say what she wanted, it was now. “I wanted to be alone.” _

_ “I can-” _

_ “With you. I wanted to be alone with you, Garrus.”  _

_ His hands were everywhere, pressed against her ribs, digging into her hips, one combing through the curls in her hair. Heat pulsed through her veins, setting her skin on fire when Garrus looked down at her. His mandibles twitched, the uncertainty evident in the way he held her gaze. Shepard tipped her head up, her lips closer to his mouth, until she could feel the uneven puffs of breath against her cheeks.  _

_ “Shepard, this changes everything. I can’t go back-” _

_ “I know. I want this too.” Whatever he was about to say was silenced by the press of her lips against his plates, rough and hungry, unadulterated with heedy desire. Garrus caught on quickly, hoisting Shepard up so that her legs wrapped around his waist comfortably. The hem of her dress slid up her thighs with help from his prying hands, so that he could feel the bare flesh of her legs, could pull her even closer to him while her own hands roamed over his body.  _

 

Like every other movie, the scene cut to black and Shepard was left wondering what happened next. Her imagination was creative enough to piece together what could have been, but the agony of not really knowing was driving her insane. Nor did she feel comfortable calling up her old crew and asking if they remembered anything about that night, because she doubted they even knew about the little alley expedition in the first place. Whatever happened or didn’t happen that night did nothing to change the way she felt now about Garrus, even if her feelings were slightly clouded by the fact he almost died. She hoped he would wake up soon. 

The bed shifted ever so slightly, startling Shepard. She sat up straight, clutching Garrus’s hand between both of hers. Garrus stared at her with heavy eyes, hazy and fresh from his coma. Shepard waited for awareness to set in, for the recognition to strike, as panic crawled up the back of her throat like bile. She removed the tape that held the plastic tube in place in his mouth, slowly pulling the tube out. The faint groan of pain didn’t escape her, but she needed to hear his voice, to know that he would be okay.

“Garrus? It’s me, Jane.”

“Shep-” he coughed. “You’re real.”

Shepard nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“I’m here, Garrus. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Do you remember…?” She knew what he meant by the flare of heat in his eyes. Shepard nodded once more, this time more vigorously. Nothing could take that memory away from her again. Things started to feel like they were going to fall into place. They could live out their lives, in whatever way that meant for them. Garrus had been right when he said that things would change.

“I love you, Jane.”

“I love you too, big guy.” 

  
  



End file.
